The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-03-30
CHAPTER VIII.

Tor q time afatNcafeQ quite liis settlle Du
after month or two, it became evident h
was not the same. He had been an unusually
calm, self controlled man before the acciden
that befell him on the State Line turnpike
Especially, though by nature quickly angry
he had had his temper singularly well il
hand Shirley noticed that he had becom,
unaccountabiv irritable. The slightest cause
trifie threw him into an uncontrollable rage
The first time she observed this they wer,
riding together in the little light carriage
Her father was driving A boy started VI
before them in the road. then SUNK 10 ons
side. He was the forlornest tatter,lemalioI
of child. mass of rags and dirt. He wa,
a picture to excite profound pity, being
stunted and starved looking, with stoopins
shoulders and narrow, hollow chest. He had
large blae eyes. that looked CLASSY abov,
his thin checks. But they We're shifting
furtive ewes, as If wont to glance from
side to side. looking for a blow from behind
or for someth hing To lay hands on, and maks
Off with. lie was a wee, hungry faced Great
ure.
''What pitiful looking child said shir
ley.
That That's the little devil that lost me
the sorreI colt Get out Of the way. there
youl"
Col Carstone gave the child cut across
the poor little shoulders with bis whip. The
child cried with pain.
"Why, father" said Shirley. How could
you do that
Let him keep ont of my sight, them
In all his life he had never spoken SO be
fore. She said nothing; not word till they
reached home Neither did the colonel.
But Shirley straightway gathered up some OF
Percy's clothes, a basket OF the food that Is
dear to the appetite of boy, and went bach
to the road. and found the half starved Great
ure, and fed and comforted him Twas
poor little Rip. the baby tramp. She inter
ceded with the local authorities for him He
did not belong to Linwood parts. or indeed
anywhere else
'We can do nothing for him. He's none
of ours" they said.
"But you can't turn Kim out to starve, can
your she asked.
They "reckoned" they couldn't do that,
hardly So after some delay, and much
hemming and having, Rip, Nobodys child
was sent to the county poorhouse There be
had food and shelter, such as they were. There
we leave him, for the present. But he will
come in again. Though he did not belong to
Linwood, he belongs to this story.
The brief fit of anger which surprised
Shirley so that day in her father was only
the first of many like it. He who was wont
to be the sweetest, merriest of men to his
family became terror to them at times.
What had come over their father! He re
allied the change himself, at times, and
begged the forgiveness and forbearance OF
his wife and daughter in a humble way that
brought tears to their eyes.
He was not well in other respects either
He dragged his limbs with sense of pain and
heavineSs, though he went about the mill and
farm still, and followed the old ways. One
day he sat in the porch with the children and
their mother, looking out at the peaceful
valley below A sudden gust of wind blew q
speck of something into his eye The specl
proved to be a poisonous gnat. 1t blinded
him. The eye became presently 50 swoller
and painful that it was necessary to shut out
the light. Shirley bound a bandagc about
the wounded eye.
"Stop, Shirley" said he "don't cover VI
both eyesl"
Il didn't papa; 1 only bound up the righ
eye"
He passel his hand across the left eye tC
make sure He opened and closed the lid
several times.
Then he sat in utter silence moment.
aGod help metz he said at length, II an
going blind in my left eyer
1t was too true. The sight of the eye wa
all gone but the faintest glimmering of gray
ike twilight. He was unable to distinguish
one object from another with that eve. Othel
signs of failing powers followed. His memory
had been clear and powerful Now he los
recollection of important matters Images o
people and events became confused in hi
brain He forgot sometimes the names of hi
children, and called one by the name of an
other. A pain in his head troubled him.
With a sinking heart the faithful daughter
watched these signs 1t was unutterably sac
to see such symptoms of decay in this man oi
princely heart and brain. At last the CIR
observed that her father could not speak Ger
tain words distinctly any more. Hi
articulation was thick and difficult, like thai
of drunken man But this was not tbs
worst Others, outside of the stone house
began to notice the change, too, and to tall
of it. Ere long the everlasting Mis- Simp
kins tackled black Sam in the village. SaiC
she:
"Its beginnin' TO be whimpered about
among folks hyer in town that Col Car
stone is losn' of his mind"
piled Sam, with an indignant air He had
heard Col Carstone say that and thought
it sounded high toned
That there might be no possibility of mis-
understanding, Mis- Simpkins came out fiat
footed with the question:
"Boss goin' crazy, amt hel"
Sam fiared up nightly. The honor of tht
Carstone family hung upon him. He fell
the responsibility of the occasion. He an
swered:
"Goramitey, Mis- Simpkins Linwooc
peoples pack o po' white trash. da'ts whei
dey ar Folks what's got plenty brains dom
go crazy. IL don't run in der families. III
only Yer po' trash dat loses der Minis, an dej
lose 'cuI huntin' arter other peoples business
| suects to hyar dat all Linwood's move.
into de Ioonattic asylum befo' long. Yah
yahl' With a twinkle OF white teeth, and
3ol,bin. of gray head, Sam turned his bacl
~ Linwood.
But he looked very grave when next day
Col Carstone said he meant to start that
afternoon to tie city. a look of intelligence
passed between Shirley and the old servitor.
@Papa,- said Shirley, @don't you think Sam
had better go with your 1t irritated him.
Il think" he answered, -that 1 am still
C<iDtDIC u htAhl445 ttAlI CA oCiA-
"Oh, well, no offense, Col Carstone,' SAID
Shirley, lightly. She thought to soothe hii
wounded pride at viii be relief to you Il
get away from taking care of the trouble
some pack of US here"
Her fathers brief anger was over. Ia
turned his eye upon the group that gatheret
to see him off, the handsome, merry children
the beautiful, elder daughter, and the tender
pretty mother of them all. He glanced from
one to another with look of love and pride
Then he kissed them, one after another
which was a work Of time, there were 50 manI
of them. A new baby had taken the plac
CT the old one. There were always babies il
the stone house. The father kissed the tin,
newcomer last of all Then he placed it Ii
Shirley's arms, not his wifes. And be said:
take care of your mother, Shirley. TAX
care of them all. :"
Those were his last words to them
He descended the hill with his slight,
dragging gait, and they saw him no more.
In many day the colonel had not felt s.
well as he did next morning. A sense Of ex
hilaration and a feeling of youth and lightnes
lifted him quite beyond the gloom that haG
oppressed him for weeks. He was passion
ateIy fond of music In earlier days he him
self had been an amateur singer of no com
mon ability. A famous prina donna wa
singing in opera in Chesterton this very week
On the evening Of that day s'NorTna" was 3
be given. it was one of his old favorites
Tender memories were joined with it 70
him 1t was at performance of Norma" b
first met his wife. Through twenty -fiv
years OF happy life that night smiled back o.
him
What lily OF a girl his Alice was then
in her white dress and white gloves. wit
flowers in her hair. Not at all like Shirley
Their daughter was of a stronger mold-an'
he was glad of it, perhaps, but if ever ther
was flower maiden on earth, his sweet Alic
had been one. II ever wife was faithful
tender, and lovely, the flower maiden ha'
been so to him How happy, thrice happy
she had made him His lot had been blesse'
above that of common men. He smiled as b
8 -I.e II <.II& =